sea, he asked, ‘Do you miss the military life?’
‘Not at all.’ Her smile switched off. ‘It wasn’t what I wanted after all.’ A little shiver and, ‘See you in the morning.’ Then she was gone, striding across the deck in that sharp, exact way of hers, heading for the hub of what went on day after day. Her leg left pulled a fraction higher on the upward movement. He’d noticed weeks ago how some days were worse than others, and how she sometimes winced or rubbed her lower back when she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t one to complain or talk about her aches and pains.
She was back, a light smile on her face that heartened him. ‘By the way, you’d make a lousy commanding officer.’ Straightening, she mimicked him. ‘Kristina, your attention—now.’ This time she did leave him, flipping her hand over her shoulder on the way.
She left him chuckling yet bereft of company when he’d never before wanted anyone sharing this precious hour away from the cries and arguments and chatter that filled the ship twenty-four seven. Sometimes his head would be splitting apart with everyone’s pain, his own grief and guilt working its way into the centre of it all, reminding him why he was there, and stressing that he’d never be able to escape to a normal life back in England close to his family. He had to continue moving, keep finding more people to save. Working for MFA did that by bringing him and those people together. Day after day, week after week. There was no end to it. And not likely to be for the rest of his life. Which suited him perfectly.
Except Kristina didn’t recognise his barriers, or ignored them, relentlessly chipping away, making him feel a little happier with life. Hell, he’d put his arm around her to give her warmth and support. Something more than her beauty, her confidence, her quietness, her heat-provoking body got to him—come on, it was a combination of all those.
Yeah, but there was an indefinable something else he couldn’t put his finger on. When she’d told him about her name he’d known instantly she didn’t talk about that to anyone, yet she’d told him. Not to shut him up, or at least not to let him think it was on a whim, but because she’d wanted him to understand there were heartfelt reasons behind her need to be called Kristina. She’d even told him those. Information he didn’t want because it made him care. From now on he was done talking to her about anything deep. He had to be or he was doomed.
Chase tried to connect the dots between the doctor and her role as a soldier. Though the circumstances were poles apart, the requirements for patience and tolerance would be the same, yet he couldn’t quite imagine Kristina issuing orders. Around here other medics did her bidding without question, her manner friendly and relaxed while underscored with determination, but a military officer would have to be sharp and firm. Bet she filled out the uniform perfectly.
Hell, he was in need of some diversion. Last time he’d got like this a nurse had spent a night with him on their three-day leave from the ship. Eight months ago, at the end of last summer. That was the last time he’d had sex? So it wasn’t sleep he needed, was it?
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